{"id":"01KG8AK90PDYQSQ8SBRPB4BKWG","cid":"bafkreic2cgw2one6zk7bksrzu7nfk6rkhxqoiknfbhhn7723jhg2cdwbmi","type":"chunk","properties":{"end_line":2367,"extracted_at":"2026-01-30T20:47:58.829Z","extracted_by":"structure-extraction-lambda","label":"Chunk 1","source_file":"01KG89J1G8S4TRWXNCBRKCRKS8","start_line":2256,"text":"The Battle for the Bay.\r\n(August, 1864.)\r\n\r\n\r\nO mystery of noble hearts,\r\n  To whom mysterious seas have been\r\nIn midnight watches, lonely calm and storm,\r\n    A stern, sad disciple,\r\nAnd rooted out the false and vain,\r\n  And chastened them to aptness for\r\n  Devotion and the deeds of war,\r\nAnd death which smiles and cheers in spite of pain.\r\n\r\nBeyond the bar the land-wind dies,\r\n  The prows becharmed at anchor swim:\r\nA summer night; the stars withdrawn look down--\r\n    Fair eve of battle grim.\r\nThe sentries pace, bonetas glide;\r\n  Below, the sleeping sailor swing,\r\n  And if their dreams to quarters spring,\r\nOr cheer their flag, or breast a stormy tide.\r\n\r\nBut drums are beat: _Up anchor all!_\r\n  The triple lines steam slowly on;\r\nDay breaks, and through the sweep of decks each man\r\n    Stands coldly by his gun--\r\nAs cold as it. But he shall warm--\r\n  Warm with the solemn metal there,\r\n  And all its ordered fury share,\r\nIn attitude a gladiatorial form.\r\n\r\nThe Admiral--yielding the love\r\n  Which held his life and ship so dear--\r\nSailed second in the long fleet’s midmost line;\r\n    Yet thwarted all their care:\r\nHe lashed himself aloft, and shone\r\n  Star of the fight, with influence sent\r\n  Throughout the dusk embattlement;\r\nAnd so they neared the strait and walls of stone.\r\n\r\nNo sprintly fife as in the field,\r\n  The decks were hushed like fanes in prayer;\r\nBehind each man a holy angel stood--\r\n    He stood, though none was ’ware.\r\nOut spake the forts on either hand,\r\n  Back speak the ships when spoken to,\r\n  And set their flags in concert true,\r\nAnd _On and in!_ is Farragut’s command.\r\n\r\nBut what delays? ’mid wounds above\r\n  Dim buoys give hint of death below--\r\nSea-ambuscades, where evil art had aped\r\n    Hecla that hides in snow.\r\nThe centre-van, entangled, trips;\r\n  The starboard leader holds straight on:\r\n  A cheer for the Tecumseh!--nay,\r\nBefore their eyes the turreted ship goes down!\r\n\r\nThe fire redoubles, While the fleet\r\n  Hangs dubious--ere the horror ran--\r\nThe Admiral rushes to his rightful place--\r\n    Well met! apt hour and man!--\r\nCloses with peril, takes the lead,\r\n  His action is a stirring call;\r\n  He strikes his great heart through them all,\r\nAnd is the genius of their daring deed.\r\n\r\nThe forts are daunted, slack their fire,\r\n  Confounded by the deadlier aim\r\nAnd rapid broadsides of the speeding fleet,\r\n    And fierce denouncing flame.\r\nYet shots from four dark hulls embayed\r\n  Come raking through the loyal crews,\r\n  Whom now each dying mate endues\r\nWith his last look, anguished yet undismayed.\r\n\r\nA flowering time to guilt is given,\r\n  And traitors have their glorying hour;\r\nO late, but sure, the righteous Paramount comes--\r\n    Palsy is on their power!\r\nSo proved it with the rebel keels,\r\n  The strong-holds past: assailed, they run;\r\n  The Selma strikes, and the work is done:\r\nThe dropping anchor the achievement seals.\r\n\r\nBut no, she turns--the Tennessee!\r\n  The solid Ram of iron and oak,\r\nStrong as Evil, and bold as Wrong, though lone--\r\n    A pestilence in her smoke.\r\nThe flag-ship is her singled mark,\r\n  The wooden Hartford. Let her come;\r\n  She challenges the planet of Doom,\r\nAnd naught shall save her--not her iron bark.\r\n\r\n_Slip anchor, all! and at her, all!_\r\n  _Bear down with rushing beaks--and_ now!\r\nFirst the Monongahela struck--and reeled;\r\n    The Lackawana’s prow\r\nNext crashed--crashed, but not crashing; then\r\n  The Admiral rammed, and rasping nigh\r\n  Sloped in a broadside, which glanced by:\r\nThe Monitors battered at her adamant den.\r\n\r\nThe Chickasaw plunged beneath the stern\r\n  And pounded there; a huge wrought orb\r\nFrom the Manhattan pierced one wall, but dropped;\r\n    Others the seas absorb.\r\nYet stormed on all sides, narrowed in,\r\n  Hampered and cramped, the bad one fought--\r\n  Spat ribald curses from the port\r\nWho shutters, jammed, locked up this Man-of-Sin.\r\n\r","title":"Chunk 1"},"relationships":[{"peer":"01KG8AJNC7XD8EG7FK61TY6WFK","peer_type":"segment","predicate":"in"},{"peer":"01KG89J1G8S4TRWXNCBRKCRKS8","peer_type":"file","predicate":"extractedFrom"},{"peer":"01KG89HMDZKNY753EZE1CJ8HZW","peer_type":"collection","predicate":"collection"},{"peer":"01KG8AK90P0VA4S8AV1ZJ6GGZY","peer_type":"chunk","predicate":"next"}],"ver":2,"created_at":"2026-01-30T20:47:58.998Z","ts":"2026-01-30T20:48:01.811Z","edited_by":{"method":"manual","user_id":"01KFF0H3YRP9ZSM033AM0QJ47H"}}